


In a League of Their Own

by Emerald Embers (emeraldembers)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Apocalypse, Incest, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-10
Updated: 2010-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-08 20:10:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldembers/pseuds/Emerald%20Embers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are worth fighting for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a League of Their Own

Dante had always figured elation had its limits, but three days of riding - at least, he thought it was three days, hard to tell after the sun stopped rising - on nothing but adrenaline had yet to curb his enthusiasm and he wasn't about to complain at being proven wrong. Still, catching himself blinking had helped him return to conscious thought, and taking in his surroundings was starting to remind him of everything he'd done, though the first thing he actually noticed was he appeared to have parked the motorbike in a ditch. The minor crash was probably what woke his mind up, though the bike really did deserve a rest after what he'd put it through, a day without petrol and god only knew when the oil had gone. It ground to a halt, gears mashing together painfully as they remembered there was nothing close to liquid in the engine, and Dante gave himself a moment's rest as he reclaimed his trigger energy just in case anything came after him, and the warm weight slumped against his back.

He'd meant to stop and dress said warm weight two days back but with the skies boiling, mountains toppling, and just about everything to have ever lain in the soil pushing up out of it, he'd kind of been distracted by the whole apocalypse issue. Now it seemed they could rest without being eaten alive by a displaced ant nest, and he breathed out shakily, a panicky sort of joy filling where the elation had been.

He'd done it. He'd brought Vergil back.

Dante hadn't let himself think Vergil's name since they started the journey out of Hell just in case, _just in case_ he'd missed some rule that'd get Vergil sucked back in there on account, but just looking around now showed pretty clearly that Earth was no-one's domain anymore. He could think what he wanted. And right now he was pretty hung up on thinking yes, Hell yes, Vergil was his again, he had him back, and no one else could take him away. He unbuckled the belts at his waist and chest, turned around on the seat and gathered Vergil into his arms, sobbed once in relief.

Ten years looking for that last loophole that'd get him into Hell without death - his own, anyway. Fighting and torturing and fighting more until some little underling cracked and told him where Vergil was kept. Pulling his dead brother out of Hell onto the bike, and setting off into the swirling red and purple clouds where there should have been a sunset. He'd proven god wrong and triggered the apocalypse, but fuck it, the end of the world was overdue anyway and god, Hell, the humans, they could fight it out themselves over Earth because he had the only thing he'd ever really wanted.

He'd tried to like humanity, but they were content to fuck themselves and he wasn't ready to be their saviour. Everyone worth something had left him or died, and he wasn't giving Vergil up for any of them. If Sparda had stuck around even he might agree, divine father or no. Fuck him, too.

Vergil had stirred a while ago but was only now starting to show recognition, the several eternities of torture behind his eyes covered enough by shock and disbelief to give a fleeting impression of innocence. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

The initial thought was, of course, "Trying not to think about it,", but just looking at Vergil was a distinctive reminder of why and who he'd done all this for. "I know what counts." Every last word of explanation and apology for why he'd not done what counted _sooner_ was on the tip of his tongue but impossible to say. "They deserved it."

"You're an idiot." The air was cold, seriously fucking cold from two days without sun, but Vergil still stopped Dante's hand when he reached for the backpack intending to give his brother something decent to wear. It stopped mattering when Vergil kissed him, not just because it was a kiss or even because it was Vergil kissing him, but because it felt like being kissed by someone who'd forgotten how to do it. It was almost enough to make him go right back to Hell just to kill more of the bastards that could have done that to his brother. Almost. He wasn't taking another risk he didn't have to, certainly not when fingers slimmer and far less calloused than his own were tracing the lines time had given him and _learning_ him, and it was so strange because once upon a time they knew each other completely and that should never have changed.

"Takes one to know one," Dante replied, unable to resist the jibe as he got off the bike, half-carrying Vergil to the bank of the ditch and barely succeeding in climbing off it, his limbs realising all at once they could actually count exhaustion as an option. Vergil didn't seem to mind when Dante took his coat back and spread it on the floor so they could rest on something other than desiccated insects, straddling Dante's hips once the devil-hunter lay down and balancing himself carefully. Dante had never forgotten or got used to how Vergil looked, every angle exactly like his but smoother and somehow elegant. Even here, naked and unsettled, he had a touch of the regal. "I haven't got any lube," Dante said as Vergil flicked open the fly of his trousers and pulled them off, every inch of him aching with fatigue but somehow sparing the energy for arousal. 'Somehow', as though there was any other option when Vergil was knelt there, so fucking beautiful Dante would have been hard even if they were both fully dressed.

"I don't care." Vergil took Dante's hands and pulled the gloves off before settling them on his hips and Dante took the hint, driving two fingers home between Vergil's legs, stretching carefully and fighting the devastating relief that Vergil was still tight, still relaxed after gentle rubbing just beneath his prostate. He could _never_ have asked after finding Vergil naked and frightened, but god, any reassurance was welcome.

Vergil shifted, moving to free himself from Dante's fingers and replacing them with his cock, carefully impaling himself and Dante _had_ to close his eyes against the sight because it alone would have made him come too early. Vergil took charge of setting a pace, moving just short of maddeningly slow, and making sounds utterly appropriate to his demonic side as Dante groped blindly for and took in his hand Vergil's erection, manually worshipping it as best as possible given he couldn't risk looking at the face accompanying those growls and half-roars. "God, I fucking love you."

Vergil closed one of his smooth hands over Dante's, said teasingly, "I love god's calluses," before hissing and tightening up, thighs tense and shivery like someone surprised or unused to his reaction to pleasure. Dante swore then and there on Vergil's life, the one thing he still valued in the world, that if his brother had forgotten how this felt then he was going to find a mattress and keep Vergil on it until he relearnt every last thing about sex they could come up with. "Dante..."

"Mm?" Dante willed Vergil to shut up, the guttural noises maddening enough without speech getting involved.

"Open your eyes."

"I can't. You're too fucking hot."

Vergil moved his other hand from keeping balance on the floor to digging into Dante's shoulder, his voice switching from a request to an insistence. "Don't hold back for me."

Dante couldn't have done anything but obey then, opening his eyes and seeing that yes, it was still Vergil arched over him, still Vergil who was naked and beautiful and alive, still Vergil who was riding his cock, and that he was an idiot for obeying as his whole body tensed and he bucked up into Vergil's body, coming like a man starved for it. God, when had he last masturbated? And then Vergil's expression just _broke_ as he came, and between the two of them it didn't seem to stop.

It had to, of course, and Dante looked down as Vergil let his _very_ spent cock slide free, come dripping down the inside of his brother's thighs like a money shot for a porn movie, before Vergil lay down at Dante's side, casting a quick glance at the forlorn motorcycle. "Guess we walk from here."

"Probably should have thought of that before," Dante mused, before laughing as much as his exhausted lungs could take, hugging Vergil close and resting his head against his brother's shoulder.

"What do we do now?" Vergil asked, both of them looking up at the sky that wasn't really made of anything, and Dante grinned at the absurdity of it all. Here they were, both effectively naked, the last people on the planet, and they weren't only half-demons but male twins to boot. Take that, Darwin.

"Chasing cars," Dante said, before shaking his head at the reference Vergil would never have got even if he'd been in the human world for the past few years. "What we like, I guess." He reached down for Vergil's hand and gripped it loosely by the wrist, started playing with the fingers, before snorting and looking at his brother. "Hey, Verge?"

"Mmhm?" Vergil half-replied, seeming caught up in his own thoughts.

Dante cleared his throat, and attempted to carry a tune. "It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine!"

.

The End


End file.
